


After She Died

by scifishipper



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifishipper/pseuds/scifishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes grief needs to be shared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After She Died

Saul found Bill in his quarters, the remnants of his model ship scattered in a tangled mess around the table and floor. He nearly gasped, seeing the beloved ship now almost unrecognizable. Saul walked slowly towards Bill who sat glowering at the pieces, a small figure in his hand. No one had been able to reach him since Lee returned from that storm. Since Starbuck died.

“Well, that’s going to take some fixing,” Saul said, leaning down to pick up the largest of the destroyed pieces, white sails dangling from a broken mast.

Bill just stared, his face hard and closed. His hair was mussed, face slack and pale.

Saul glanced around the quarters and then crossed to Bill’s desk to find a half-empty box of supplies. He dumped the pads and pens in a drawer and dropped the box onto the coffee table. One by one he picked up the snarled wreckage of his lover’s ship, placing them carefully in the box. He felt Bill’s eyes on him, but the older man said nothing.

Saul tucked the box alongside the long sofa and sat, draping a leg sideways on the cushion. “You wanna talk about it?” 

Silence.

Saul’s eyes dropped to the figure in Bill's hands. “What you got there?” He saw the gold head of a figure he’d never seen before.

Bill snorted. “Old man’s sentimentality. It’s nothing.” He tossed the figure onto the coffee table and ignored it as it skittered onto the floor. Saul recognized the outspread wings of an Aurora figurine. Bill stood abruptly and wiped his hands on his uniform pants. Ignoring Saul, he crossed to the bar, filled a glass, and drained it.

“Bill,” Saul said, standing and approaching him. 

Bill turned his back and strode towards his bedroom. He paused at the entrance and spoke, voice low, “I think you know the way out.” He disappeared through the hatchway, leaving Saul staring after him. 

It brought Saul back sharply to the days after Zak’s death, before the funeral, before Bill had had to face anyone. Saul had stayed away then, letting Bill grieve on his own, the way he thought he wanted. Now, though, he knew better. Bill needed him. 

Saul followed Bill, stopping at the bar to kick back a shot. He wasn’t quite sure how Bill was going to take his pushing him right now. He regretted staying away the last time and now that they’d become a couple, it was his place to push. He settled the empty glass back onto the bar and stepped into Bill’s bedroom. He was lying on his rack, still clothed with his back to the hatchway. 

Saul hung his jacket over a chair and slipped off his shoes and trousers. Gently, he knelt onto the bed and nestled behind Bill, pressing his body firmly against him. “I’m here, Bill.” He felt his own heart racing inside his ribcage.

Minutes ticked by before Bill moved or spoke. Saul barely breathed until Bill finally sighed and sagged back against him. Saul found his hand and squeezed before wrapping his arm around Bill’s waist. 

“Looks like Starbuck wasn’t the only one who had trouble following orders,” Bill said, and pulled Saul’s arm tighter around him. 

Saul chuckled against Bill’s hair and squeezed him back. Everything was going to be all right.


End file.
